


anatomy lesson

by arukana



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship, kouhai goro au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25814416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arukana/pseuds/arukana
Summary: Goro's worried about passing his anatomy test. Akira thinks he knows a way he can help his kouhai out.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 9
Kudos: 120





	anatomy lesson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fishoctopus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishoctopus/gifts).



> happy birthday fishie !!!! i love u !!!!! i hope u like this

“Senpai,” a familiar voice sounds off from behind, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

Akira turns his head to see Akechi Goro, a pile of books stacked higher than his own body in his arms. “In the library?”

A squeak comes from behind the books, “I didn’t mean it like that, senpai. It’s simply your day off at Leblanc and I expected-,”

Patting the chair beside him, Akira smiles softly at the boy, “Come sit down, Akechi.”

Akechi keeps mumbling to himself as he places his books down and takes a seat, “I expected that you would be hanging out with Ryuji or Ann or… somebody.”

Ignoring him, Akira reaches over to take the book from the top of the pile, “Biology, huh?”

“Mm,” Akechi nods, tentatively attempting to remove the book from Akira’s hands, “how are you with biology, senpai?”

Akira just twists out of his reach, “I get by. Why?”

Akechi gives up the book, settling back into his seat. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to study together? Perhaps you could help out your kouhai a little?”

Turning his head to the side, Akira gives his kouhai a curious look. “You need  _ my _ help?”

“Well,” Akechi’s mouth pulls to one side, “I wouldn’t say  _ ‘need’. _ It’s just… You already did this curriculum last year, right? You’re an expert, so to say.”

“Sure.”

“... And I thought maybe it would be fun.”

“Fun?”

“ _ And beneficial, _ ” he says quickly, stumbling over the words. “For the both of us, maybe?”

Akira’s not dumb. He knows what’s going on, knows this is his kouhai’s awkward way of flirting (whether Akechi himself is aware of it or not). It’s cute, but then, everything Akechi does is cute; from the way he sits, cross-legged, at Leblanc’s counter while he eats Sojiro’s curry, to the way he cuts through enemies like butter in the Metaverse.

Still, that doesn’t mean Akira has to play along so nicely. This isn’t the Metaverse.

“ _ For the both of us, _ huh?” he asks, leaning in close, feigning interest in brushing a few specks of dust off of Akechi’s shoulders.

He doesn’t miss the way Akechi freezes, doesn’t miss the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. “Yes,” he says, head bobbing as he gives a curt nod, “I could help you with some subjects? If you’d like, that is.”

“I think helping you might be more fun,” he smirks, eyes flickering back to Akechi’s face as he pulls his hand away.

Akechi just gives his best attempt at a calm smile up at him, and nods. “I’ve been having some trouble with this chapter,” he says, opening the book to where he’s placed a leather bookmark.

“Human anatomy?”

“Ahuh,” he nods. “We have a test coming up and,” he opens up his workbook, showing his pretty penmanship and a bunch of repeatedly labelled diagrams, “memorising these will take me all week. Not to mention the other chapters that will be on the exam.”

“All week? Aren’t you an honour student?” he asks. Akira’s hand comes around Akechi to rest on the back of his chair; he feels the way Akechi stiffens, how his body doesn’t know whether to lean away from or into the touch. Akira wouldn’t deny the way it puts a smirk on his face.

“Y- yeah.  _ Yes, _ I am.”

Akira purposefully doesn’t say anything in response, just gives a hum he knows will rile his kouhai up a little. “I guess I could help you a little,” he smirks, leaning over to point at Akechi’s book and whisper explanations to him under the sounds of students in the library.

Akira can feel the tension, the furious blushing-heat coming off Akechi’s body. It’s so adorable, so  _ cute _ , Akira can’t help but accidentally brush fingers across the back of Akechi’s palm. Akechi gasps, so quietly that Akira almost misses it.

“Akechi?” he whispers, close enough that his breath disturbs Akechi’s hair.

His kouhai nearly jumps out of his seat, “Yes, senpai?”

“How about you come over to Leblanc later? I could give you my notes from when I studied this stuff.”

“Ah,” Akechi breathes, Akira can hear him as he gulps loudly. “Of course. I’ll come over.”

Akira  
  
turn off all your bugs in Leblanc tonight  
  
who's the lucky woman eh  
  


Goro  
  
Taba?  
  
gowo  
  
I told you not to call me that.  
  
sowwy goro-chan  
  
(ノ﹏ヽ)  
  
i should NEVER have taught you how to use those  
  
（＾∀＾）  
  
what do u want  
  
Some advice.  
  
who are u hackin  
  
It's not about that.  
  
then what is it about?  
  
It's about matters of the heart, Taba.  
  
blegh  
  
and you came to ME?  
  
I don't have anyone else.  
  
(つ﹏⊂)  
  
ugggggggggggghhhhhhhhh  
  
shoot  
  
How do you know when someone is flirting with you?  
  
how would i even know that  
  
WAIT  
  


Akira  
  
GROSS  
  


Leblanc is never really busy on weekday evenings. Actually, Leblanc is never really  _ busy, _ period, but especially not most weekday nights.

Akira learned pretty quickly after he moved in that Leblanc has three or four regulars and since figuring that out he’s seen maybe six other people visit once or twice a piece. Akira has yet to figure out how exactly Sojiro keeps this place afloat.

Since Medjed’s defeat, Leblanc has gained yet another regular: Akechi.

It’s cute, but, like Akira said, everything his kouhai does is cute. He comes in, wearing his biggest smile and carrying his bookbag across his shoulder, and he places his order at the counter like a real customer, before he goes off to sit in the booth by the door. Whenever Sojiro’s around, he will be the one to bring him his order: usually a coffee or sometimes a curry.

And then Akira will watch as Akechi counts out his coins and his notes from his wallet, as Sojiro adamantly denies payment from his adoptive son, as Akechi affixes that determined look on his face, as Sojiro sighs and ultimately scoops up the cash.

Sometimes, if Sojiro has left the cafe for a few minutes, or if he simply just asks Akira to take Akechi his order, Akira will slip in opposite his kouhai and chat with him for a while.

Today is one of those extremely rare days where Sojiro has entrusted Akira with Leblanc for the entirety of the night. He’d been nervous, he always is in times like this, but it seems like it had all been in vain.

All he’s done tonight so far is wipe down the counter and the tables. And then the counter again. And then, of course, he’d had to wipe it down a third time after he poured himself a cup of coffee.

The clock chimes eight and he’s honestly not really expecting any customers to show up later than that. He frowns up at the thing, uncaring in it’s tick-tock of timekeeping. He’d really thought Akechi would have shown up by now.

A part of him just wants to close up and go play the Featherman Seeker game he just bought with Mona, but he knows the bond of trust he’s building with Sojiro will shatter if he even thinks about closing any earlier than nine.

So, he settles in for another round of wiping down the tables.

The bell above the door chimes.

“Hello!” Of course, it’s Akechi. Finally. Akira knows that before he turns to see him, standing in his argyle sweater vest, formal shorts, socks pulled up to his shin, and those beige, extremely ugly crocs he insists on wearing in public.

“Hi, Akechi,” Akira smiles as Akechi hoists himself up onto one of the stools. He can hear the light tapping of his shoes against the counter as he swings his legs. Adorable. “What’ll you have?”

Akechi’s head slowly shakes, “I’m here to get your anatomy notes.”

“You can still hang out for a while, right?” Akira’s already starting up a fresh pot of coffee, brewed exactly the way Akechi likes.

Akechi’s mouth pulls to one side, fingers idly fidgeting together on the counter. “I suppose. But I do need time to study later tonight. I can’t stay long.”

With a flick of his wrist, Akira brushes him off, “You’ll be fine. You get too nervous.”

A vaguely uncomfortable laugh gets caught in Akechi’s throat, “Maybe.”

They just sit for a while. In silence, if not for the bubbling sounds of the coffee pot and the continuous bouncing of Akechi’s soft crocs as his legs swing. Akira’s usually the one leading in these situations, even during his own first time, but he doesn’t usually have so little to work with. His partners are usually at least somewhat responsive.

The inevitable worry of  _ ‘have I completely misread this entire situation?’ _ passes through his mind (and Akira would admit that he might let it linger for a few seconds longer than he usually would), but he quickly shoves it down, back into his gut and out of his chest; simply not allowing it to reach his throat.

Akira is better than this. Akira is unwavering and confident and  _ Joker. _ If Akechi doesn’t want to do this, then they will simply cross that bridge when they get to it.

For now, determined, Akira soldiers on, “You know what helps me study sometimes?”

Akechi just looks up from his own hands in response, instead settling on watching Akira pour the coffee into the mug.

“Changing the method.”

“Changing the method?” Akechi repeats, slowly, like he doesn’t quite get it.

“Ahuh,” Akira nods, sliding the mug over the counter, “you usually study by just sitting there and taking notes, right?”

“That’s what works best for me.”

“Maybe you just need a change to kickstart your brain.”

Akechi’s mouth twists into a frown as he stares into his mug, “I’m not sure exactly what you’re suggesting.”

Akira turns, putting away the equipment in the sink for the night, “Well, in chemistry you do practical experiments.”

There’s a moment of silence, Akechi still staring at the reflection in his mug as he puts the pieces together. “You believe I should study with… my body?”

“Doesn’t it make sense?” Akira presses, making his way back over to the counter to hold Akechi’s hand in his. “Phalanxes, metacarpus, carpus,” he says, pointing to each section as he goes, “radius and ulna, humerus.”

“Y- you know a lot about the human s- skeleton,” Akechi stutters, breath coming in quick, light pants as Akira skims fingers up his body.

“Clavicle,” but Akira spends his time on his one. His fingers press under his sweater vest, into the shirt underneath, sweeping across his collarbone and feeling the dip in the skin above. While his hands vary the pressure of his touch, his eyes flicker to the expression on his kouhai’s face.

He looks like a deer somewhat happy to be caught in the headlights; somehow disbelieving that it’s finally happening. Akira chuckles, fingers trailing their way to his kouhai’s back, “Spine, jaw.”

“Kurusu-senpai,” Akechi whispers. Their gazes are locked as Akira’s fingers swipe across his kouhai’s jaw, thumb inching down to brush against his soft lips.

“Mmhm?”

Akechi’s lips are gently pulled apart by Akira’s thumb as he slides down his chin. “Would you kiss me?”

The smirk reappears on Akira’s lips. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says, hand coming to rest on Akechi’s jaw once more, this time to help angle his lips to slide against Akira’s.

As their lips finally meet, Akechi lets out a little gasping whine. Cute, Akira thinks, as he leans further over the counter, getting as much leverage as he can against his kouhai. Another sound leaves his mouth as Akira parts from the quick peck, this one more disappointed as he chases Akira’s mouth.

“Eager, huh?” Akira asks as his smirk widens.

Red flushes Akechi’s entire face, his skin becoming warm to the touch, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while, senpai.”

Akira snorts, reaching for Akechi’s hand across the counter, “Really?”

The scowl that crosses Akechi’s face is probably supposed to be threatening and angry, but his blush only makes it seem all the more endearing. “Your sarcasm isn’t funny.” Akira just boops him on the nose.

Glancing at the clock, Akira decides that he’s closing up early, Sojiro be damned. This is an opportunity he’s just not willing to give up. When his eyes fall back to his kouhai, he can see that the scowl has faded with the touch to his nose, leaving only Akechi’s gaze locked onto Akira’s lips.

Well, if he’s so greedy.

Akira leans back in, confidence swelling in a way that makes him a little less gentle. The hand on Akechi’s jaw slowly slides until his fingers are tangled in his hazelnut locks, locking him in place as he pushes their lips together once more. This time, he kisses open mouthed; his tongue coming to lightly trace Akechi’s lips, asking for entry but not demanding.

Akechi lets him in anyway.

It’s clear as soon as Akira starts to explore Akechi’s mouth that he’s never kissed anybody like this before. He doesn’t quite know what to do with his tongue and his instincts revert to a “battling for dominance” movement that he probably got from a Featherman fanfiction, which would be cute, if it wasn’t Akira who had to go along with it.

Akira pulls away for a moment, trail of saliva still connecting them as he speaks, “Follow my lead.”

“M’kay,” Akechi tries to speak, but it comes out more like a hum as Akira presses them together again.

It’s still not the best kiss Akira’s ever had, but it’s definitely better. Akechi’s submissiveness alone in the way he lets Akira’s tongue roam freely in his mouth is an incredible feeling, one that makes his cock stir inside his pants. He lets out a groan straight into Akechi’s mouth, making his kouhai drink it down. The sound makes Akechi’s eyes fly open, before provoking a whine to fall from his own mouth.

It tastes fucking delicious.

Pulling back, watching as the saliva chain breaks, Akira asks, “You want an anatomy lesson? We can study upstairs.”

It’s a cheesy line, but it’s worth it for the way his kouhai’s expression cracks even further into lust.

The urgent nod Akechi gives has Akira pulling away completely and undoing the back of his apron. He throws it in the general direction of the hook it lives upon, before rounding the corner, half-expecting Akechi to already have run up the stairs.

Unfortunately, the giddy eagerness Akira shows plainly in his body is not shared by his kouhai. He’s gotten off the seat, but only just, weight still leaning against the stool. “Kurusu-senpai,” he says.

Akira makes himself soften, like he’s trying not to scare off a stray cat, “Yes?”

“I’ve never done anything like this before.”

The boy looks at his hands while he speaks, fidgeting his fingers to attempt to rid his body of the anxiety he feels. Somehow, Akira gets the impression it might not be working.

He takes a step closer to Akechi, placing his hand over the tangled mess of fingers and doing his best to straighten them out. “It’s okay,” he smiles, softer than the confident persona he’s trying to put across, “we can go slow or we can just go upstairs and cuddle instead.”

Akechi looks up again, shaking his head, “No. I want to.”

“Just nervous?”

A frown blooms across Akechi’s lips, “Perhaps.”

“It’s okay,” Akira repeats. 

Quickly, he goes through the motions of closing up the cafe; turning off the lights, cleaning out the coffee pot, locking up, before returning to where Akechi is still standing. He curls his fingers in between Akechi’s, taking his hand and gently tugging him in the direction of the stairs.

It’s a short climb, but it almost feels like forever before the finally arrive at the bed. Akira smiles down at his smaller kouhai, whose nerves haven’t faded any, and delicately manoeuvers him back onto his mattress.

“Relax, okay?” Akira whispers, pressing gentle kisses from his ear to his neck. “If you don’t like something just tell me. And if you wanna stop-,”

“I won’t want to,” he says, voice artificially sturdy.

“ _ If _ you do,” Akira continues, “just say.”

There’s a slight grimace on Akechi’s face, but he nods anyway.

“How far do you wanna go tonight?”

“All the way.” The words come out of Akechi all on one breath, winded like he’s been punched in the gut.

Akira isn’t convinced, “You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” his kouhai affirms, lifting himself up slightly to remove his sweater vest. Akira won’t lie, when he invited Akechi over earlier, he wasn’t expecting much; fuck, he wasn’t expecting to get this far. In his wildest dreams, maybe he would’ve gotten a terrible virgin handjob, and he would’ve taken half an hour just to finish once.

Taking Akechi’s virginity was… Well, he didn’t even  _ try _ to get his hopes up for that.

But he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Okay,” and he reattaches his mouth to Akechi’s neck, nimbly working his fingers down and unbuttoning the shirt below him, “just relax. Let me take care of you.” He runs his fingertips across the newly exposed skin, fondling the softness of his kouhai’s chest, ever-so-gently rolling one of his nipples between his forefinger and thumb.

“O- oh,” Akechi moans, “s- senpai.”

Whether Akechi’s really pent up or his chest is just  _ that _ sensitive, Akira doesn’t know; all he knows is that he needs Akechi to keep making those sounds. “You know,” he takes a pause from the kissing, speech making Akechi’s spit-slick skin cool, “you can just call me Akira.”

Akechi’s erotic expression gets muddled with another frown, “But you’re my senpai, senpai.”

“Hm,” Akira hums against his skin. Deftly pulling Akechi’s shirt apart, fully exposing his chest to the stale attic air, he licks his salty skin, prodding up against the nipple and making Akechi whine. “How about Akira-senpai?”

It takes a moment for his kouhai to compose himself enough to even try to respond, as Akira purposefully tries to make him lose control a little, pushing his tongue against the nipple, sucking it into his mouth. “Wh- Ah!” he yells. Akira quickly clasps a hand around his mouth.

“Shush,” he whispers, “you’ll wake up the neighbours with a voice like that.”

“S- sorry,” Akechi whines.

Akira starts to thumb Akechi’s other nipple, “It’s okay, baby. But you wanted to say something?”

Akechi just tries to wiggle away from Akira’s fingers, but Akira just locks his kouhai between his shins, one either side of his hips. “Ah, ah, I- Akira-senpai is okay. Just- mhm- call me Goro?”

“Goro,” leaves Akira’s mouth immediately, catching them both unaware. Akira wasn’t aware of how much he wanted to say it until he had permission. “Goro,” he repeats, just for the effect.

Goro seems to like it too, if the small bulge growing against Akira’s thigh is anything to go by.

“‘Kira-senpai,” and, fuck, Akira doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to hearing that, “c’n I have- more?”

Akira pulls back, pulling his school shirt over his head with one swoop, then moving onto unbuttoning his pants, “Course you can.”

“Am I- supposed to…?” Goro looks up, mesmerised by the sight of Akira’s naked chest. Smiling, Akira pulls at the shirt still trapped by his arms, a signal for Goro to start getting naked himself. “Okay,” he gulps.

It’s an awkward position, but Goro manages to free his arms, pulling his body free of the shirt material. Despite the urge to go back to the worshipping kisses and touches he was leaving before, Akira controls himself, temporarily removing himself from atop Goro’s body to start removing his pants. “I’ll go first, ‘kay?”

Goro nods shallowly, eyes too focused on the hardness beneath Akira’s pants to tear his gaze away for even a second. Cute.

Goro is so fucking cute, even as his tongue absent-mindedly falls from his mouth the second Akira frees his cock. Especially when he does that.

Akira wants to climb back over him and tap his jaw shut, but they’re not finished yet. “Your turn.”

Blinking back into awareness, Goro’s fingers travel down to his shorts, hesitating just once at the waistband before he bites the bullet and shoves both his pants and underwear off in one go, legs kicking until they fall to the floor.

“God,” Akira says, giving a shaky exhale as he comes to kneel just in front of the bed. “Sit up for me, Goro, that’s it,” he praises as Goro complies. Goro sits in front of him, hiding himself from Akira as his knees knock against his chin. Akira frowns, “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

Slotting his hands just under Goro’s knees to help him along, Goro does as he’s told.

Akira grins up at him, hands falling to the floor to begin a slow trail up Goro’s legs. “Tibia,” he whispers, allowing his head to dip down to press kisses over the skin as he speaks, “fibula.”

There’s no hiding the humoured scoff that leaves Goro’s throat, “You’re still keeping that up?”

“Of course, patella,” he says, both thumb and lips brushing against Goro’s knees. “Femur.”

Goro’s thighs are so gorgeous. They’re not as plump or soft as some of the other people he’s been with; they’re hardened with muscle from miles and miles spent biking, but Akira likes them just as much, if not more. They fit his tiny frame perfectly. Akira could spend all day worshiping them, marking them up with hickies and bites until they’re more purple than pale, but then Goro fidgets and groans, and Akira is reminded of the neediness between his own legs.

“Reach in the drawer for me, babe,” Akira says, continuing to trail sloppy kisses down Goro’s thighs.

The sound of rustling reaches his ears just as Goro asks, “What am I looking for?”

“Lube,” he offers simply, hand coming to press light touches to the small patches of skin either side of his kouhai’s cock.

The rustling stops. “Ah- ‘Kira-senpai,” he groans.

“Got it?”

“No,” he near-cries, “hold on. Don’t touch me like that.”

“You don’t like it?” While Akira speaks, Goro’s fingers latch onto the sticky bottle of lube in Akira’s drawer, and drop it into his senpai’s waiting palm.

Goro moans as Akira goes back to rubbing his inner thighs, “I do. I was trying to focus.”

Smirking, Akira presses a final kiss to Goro’s knee: gentle and loving. “Lie back down, baby,” he says as he climbs onto the bed, keeping the same position between Goro’s legs. Dribbling lube onto his fingers, he lightly rubs at Goro’s rim, making him flinch and gasp. “Have you ever touched yourself here before?”

And Akira thought he couldn’t blush any brighter. Goro throws an arm across his eyes and nods.

“It’s okay,” Akira uses his free hand to pull the arm away, “you don’t have to be embarrassed with me. Just your fingers? Or do you have some toys?”

“No toys,” Goro’s voice is hoarse like he can only just make himself say the words. “Just fingers.”

“How many?”

Goro blushes even more, fighting Akira for the ability to put his hand over his eyes, “T- two.”

“Okay,” Akira nods, finger steady just outside Goro’s rim. “I might be a little bigger than two fingers, so we’ll go slow okay?”

“Okay,” but Goro’s squeezing his eyes shut like he’s afraid.

“Tell me if this hurts,” Akira warns, before gently pressing his finger inside. “All good?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow up at his kouhai.

Goro just nods silently, so Akira starts to move. There’s whining coming from above, but no signal to stop, so Akira just watches contently, as his finger moves in and out.

Once he’s feeling confident enough to slide a second finger in, he starts scissoring them together and apart. That must be a new sensation for Goro, because, “Oh, ‘Kira.”

“You like it?”

“Y- yes. More, pl- please.”

“More fingers?”

Akira can feel his whole body shake with the force of his nods. What else can he do but oblige?

At some point, three somehow become four before Akira finds Goro’s prostate. But Goro lets him know the second he does.

“Ah! Senpai!” he yells, hips bucking and convulsing like he’s right on the edge already. Poor boy.

“Shush, shush-shush,” Akira hums. God, Goro is so fucking loud. “You’re really gonna wake up the neighbourhood if you scream like that. Maybe even Sojiro will hear.”

He doesn’t miss how that makes Goro’s hard cock twitch against his stomach.

“Ah- ‘Kira,” he moans, his writhing back down to its usual level.

“Yes, baby?”

Goro whines, like he doesn’t quite know what words to use. “Can we… move on? Please?”

Sliding his fingers out, slow and gentle, watching Goro’s face intently as he does, Akira asks, “You want my cock?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?” Akira asks, shifting himself up to his knees as he pulls Goro’s waist up and over his knees.

Goro’s eyes shine with impatience and sheer neediness, “I’m ready. Please.”

Feeling up the bed until he finds his kouhai’s hand, Akira takes it in his own, squeezing gently and Goro squeezing back. With his other hand, he lines up the tip of his cock with Goro’s rim, slowly and softly pushing in with his hips.

“Oh-,” Goro gives a choked off moan at the sensation, nearly busting his own lip with the speed at which he shoves the edge of his palm into his mouth. “‘Kira, ‘Kira, ‘Kira,” he pleads around the intrusion between his teeth, all formality and honorifics forgotten with the burning feeling of a cock splitting him open.

“Too much?” Though he doesn’t think he could physically go slower, the only other option is to stop completely.

Goro writhes underneath him, inadvertently spearing himself deeper on Akira’s cock, “You’re- ah- too big.”

And Akira’s cock throbs inside of Goro at the words; Akira momentarily forgets the situation at hand altogether, shoving himself in at least an inch before Goro’s cries bring him back. “Fuck, Goro, fuck, sorry.”

But Goro’s tongue is lolling out again, eyes in the back of his head, like he’s in a goddamned hentai. “M- more,” he stutters.

“You like that?” Akira chuckles, “You like it when it hurts?”

Goro nods.

So Akira shoves the remaining inches in, one by one, revelling in the way Goro’s body tenses, screams, cries, and then relaxes as he adjusts.

Once he’s fully inside, he gives Goro a few moments to catch his breath. “How is that?”

“Guh-  _ good, _ ” he moans. Akira can pretty much see the stars in his eyes as he looks up to the ceiling. If Akira wasn’t so intent on making Goro’s first time perfect, he thinks he might be able to cum then and there from that expression paired with the exquisite tightness of his ass.

“Tell me when I’m good to move, okay, baby?”

“Okay.” Now there are tears forming in his eyes, so Akira spares a few gentle touches to his skin, trying to build that pleasure back up.

Not that Goro’s feeling unhappy, his cock’s still flush against his abdomen. Akira gives it a few strokes, eyes focused as Goro moans and pushes his hips into his grasp.

“G- god, please,” he groans, “Akira, move.”

“You sure?”

“Fucking  _ move! _ ” he yells, voice angry and impatient.

Apparently Akira is  _ very _ into a demanding Goro, he can’t help but start moving his hips at a rocky pace, feeling so much pleasure that he barely has any brain power left to commit Goro’s expression to memory. But the glimpse he does get is glorious.

His hair’s all fanned out of the pillow like he’s an angel. The hand that was holding Akira’s long forgotten in favour of grasping at the sheets up near his head.

“You’re so,” Akira pants, “fucking beautiful.”

Goro just whines in response, his whole body shaking as Akira’s cockhead brushes up against his prostate. Now that Akira’s found the just right angle, he shifts, holding Goro’s hips in place to pound him in that perfect spot.

“Nuhh- ‘Kira,” Goro groans as the tears finally start to fall from the corners of his eyes.

Akira leans back, watching the easy slide of his cock against the way Goro’s ass sucks him in. “Mmm, you’re so good, Goro.”

“‘Kira,” he whines, completely  _ gone, _ dazed off the feeling of Akira splitting him in two.

Akira really wants to make it last forever; he switches up his pace every so often, but he can’t make his hips go slower than a harsh pounding for long, Goro too tight and warm and heavenly for Akira to even think straight.

So, it was never going to last long. Both of them are too pent up and enamoured by the way the other looks in the throes of pleasure

“‘Kirakirakira, oh, fuck, Akira-,” Goro nearly screams as Akira finally wraps a hand around his small cock and strokes, fast and hard, falling into the same rhythm as Akira’s thrusts. “Senpai, oh,  _ please. _ ”

“Are you close, baby?” Akira asks, his voice level like his own undoing isn’t on the horizon.

“Yeeeesssss,” Goro whines, body starting to tremble as the feeling builds and builds.

Akira locks his gaze on Goro’s face, eagerly awaiting the expression he’ll make as he cums. Fuck, he already knows he’ll never need to watch porn again after this. “Do it, baby. Goro. Cum for me.”

Those words seem to send Goro crashing over the edge. His body tenses, hips angled towards the sky before he loosens completely, falling back onto the bed as he moans loud and long, spilling himself into Akira’s hand. Akira just keeps stroking, watching him as he turns from erotic pleasure to pained overstimulation before he finally lets go.

He doesn’t stop fucking him though, he can’t, he doesn’t feel like it’s possible with his own orgasm already building in his gut. Goro’s still dazed, slight pain tinging his face as his prostate is continually stimulated, and Akira uses the opportunity to feed him his own cum from his hand. He isn’t even sure if Goro registers what he’s cleaning up, but his tongue just keeps poking out for more; there’s a happy smile on his face like it’s the most delicious meal he’s ever tasted.

That’s what makes Akira cum, in the end. That’s what makes Akira paint his insides with white, taking his virginity properly, marking him as Akira’s. He pulses so hot and so deep that he thinks Goro might never wash him out; that he’ll have the memories of being Akira’s forever.

Akira’s cock does twitch with interest at the idea, but the sensation makes him cringe. He’s far too stimulated to go again.

His kouhai’s hands seemingly come from nowhere to wrap around Akira’s neck and pull him down, hard, into a kiss. All the apprehension, the fear, from before has dissipated into nothingness; Goro running on pure passion as he pushes his way into Akira’s mouth.

It’s a much better attempt than the ones they had earlier. Akira can’t help but kiss back with the same intensity as the last embers of pleasure burn out.

“Ngh,” Goro groans, shifting away in a not-so-subtle attempt to get Akira to pull out. He obliges, hand searching for something to wipe up the cum that is threatening to stain his sheets. “Thank you.”

That catches him off guard; it makes him pause his search and look up, “What for?”

Goro seems to notice his mistake, the blush that had just begun to fade coming back with a vengeance, “That was… nice.”

Akira snorts as his hand catches a pre-dirtied towel on the floor, starting to wipe them both down, “Just nice?”

“I had a lot of fun?” he tries again. Akira just laughs and tosses the towel back to the floor before curling up against his kouhai.

“Don’t worry,” he says, pressing a kiss behind Goro’s ear, “we can have a lesson in pillowtalk next time.”

The body next to him perks up at that, “Next time?”

Pressing another kiss to Goro’s skin, he grins, “Yeah. Next time.”

**Author's Note:**

> And then....
> 
> “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS!"
> 
> It was...........................................Sojiro!
> 
> FAQ  
> Q: Did you have to mention that Akechi wears crocs?  
> A: yes. i think they're cute.


End file.
